*Probably a good idea to not snack too close to bedtime…you know, in case you wake up crying from a dream you can’t remember and the lines to a poem running through your head and neither will let you get back to sleep.

We cry our raindrop tears
From sodden, marble lids
Let the wind howl our lament
Let it carry from our midst
Around the world
The rending of our sorrow
Will be heard

Our faces staid in masks
Of long-borne grief
Observe the pain of years
Ne’er destined for relief
From this sharp world
The rending of our sorrow
Must be heard

Our lonely arms
Will ne’er embrace elation
Alabaster; raised
In stony supplication
Yielding to the world
The rending of our sorrow
Shall be heard

Our bodies fixed in anguish;
Dolor carved
We cling forever,
Our misery never halved
By this cruel world
The rending of our sorrow
Needs to be heard

Our heartache on display
Eternally
Algos, Akhos, Lupa;
Grievers, we
Lament this world
The rending of our sorrow
Will e’er be heard

Our prompt today was to write a persona poem; one a bit more serious than other, recent prompts have elicited, and so, being tired of life and in the kind of mood where sadness is hanging in the edges of the air, I wrote of statues, carved forever into their pain – a public spectacle of misery which would result in congratulation for the sculptor and endless sadness for the statues (were they sentient (not in a freaky in-yer-face, Dr Who-style way, either)).

So I researched to figure out who would like as not be turned into such a piece of artistry and upset, and the Algea appeared in my world – three Greek goddesses whose embodiment was grief, sadness, and mental and physical pain. Learn more about them here.